


a stranger comes to town

by en passant (corinthian)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: M/M, ygoshipolympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinthian/pseuds/en%20passant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man who checked into room 7 wasn’t the normal kind of traveler that Yuusei had.</p><hr/><p>au; Yuusei owns a B&B, Judai is traveling. It’s an unforgettable summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a stranger comes to town

The man who checked into room 7 wasn’t the normal kind of traveler that Yuusei had. The sleepy town of Satellite was far too out of the way to collect that many tourists — even if it was on the lake side — so most of their visitors were businessmen for the neighboring city, fishermen and wildlife enthusiasts and then deer hunters.

He hadn’t been anything like the regulars. He was younger than most of them, around Yuusei’s age and instead of the quiet nod and credit card for the incidentals, he’d paid in cash with a smile. “Check out date?” Yuusei asked, carefully noting down the guest’s name in the log book — _Yuuki Judai_.

“Haven’t got one yet, that’s not a problem right?” Judai’s grin wavered a little, but only to shift from bright to slightly sardonic. Yuusei wasn’t sure what to read in the expression. “I’ll take good care of the room.”

“Not a problem,” Yuusei echoed, made note of it. “Your room gets cleaned every other day, but if you want to skip just hang the DND sign out. Room’s just upstairs and the second on the left. Breakfast is six to nine, dinner is seven to eight-thirty.”

“How long until I overstay my welcome?” Judai headed for the stairway. He paused, one hand on the bannister, grin tugged back up into something more cheerful.

“You can stay as long as you want, but I’ll charge you.” Yuusei shrugged. “It’ll get expensive.”

That made Judai laugh and he went to settle into his room. Yuusei watched him disappear up the stairs. There were only ten rooms in the B&B and only two were occupied now. All the rooms were upstairs, the first floor holding only the lobby and small breakfast area as well as a mud room.

It was his father’s legacy. A slightly decrepit but charming B&B that was never full capacity in the middle of nowhere. Yuusei had run it since he was eighteen, mostly by himself. It had once been a vital pitstop for miners passing through the area to work, but when the natural resources dried up so did the visitors and then the income. A lot of people thought of Satellite as a town that was on its last legs, anyone with sense would move on down to the larger cities — Domino in particular, which was closest.

He hadn't even been able to go away for school though, the thought of leaving Satellite behind didn't sit well with Yuusei. It was always best though, when someone was boarding. That almost made it feel like home.

* * *

Judai never came down for the breakfast. Yuusei noticed that in the first week that he was there. It wasn't like breakfast was that great — just cereal, toast, sometimes oatmeal and fruit and occasionally eggs and bacon. There was coffee and tea and juice and Yuusei always kept the door open in case someone from town needed an extra pick-me-up on their way to school or work. During the school year at least two or three kids were regulars, sometimes leaving some pocket change behind but usually just grabbing a bagel to go. Anything that wasn't eaten at breakfast that couldn't be re-wrapped either went to the compost or he'd wrap it up and eat as leftovers himself. With only a few boarders at any given time, it wasn't like he overcooked, usually.

On the other hand, Judai always showed up for dinner. Though Yuusei never saw Judai leave — not that he stayed t the desk all day. He kept a pager on him and worked out back, or in the workshop in the basement. Yuusei kept odd jobs to supplement the B&B, but even on slower days he never seemed to catch sight of Judai until the evening, when he'd stroll in — always in the same red jacket — and toss a lazy salute with two fingers.

"Hey, Yuusei, what's for dinner?"

"Chicken." Some nights, fish. Nothing fancy, usually baked with potatoes or other root vegetables. Yuusei wasn't exactly gourmet, but the people who stayed there never asked for anything else either.

On the third night of "chicken" though, Judai leaned across the clerk's desk and raised an eyebrow.

"Let's try something new."

To be honest, Yuusei didn't really _want_ to ever try anything new. He was a little stuck in his habits, to say the least. So he met Judai's suggestion with an impassive look and a slow small nod.

Judai was a disaster in a kitchen. He had a kind of frenetic energy that didn't just take over the space he was in, but somehow also felt like it encroached on Yuusei's personal space.

"Pass me the flour." and "Don't you have any cayenne?" and "Behind you! Hot plate!"

The end result was a rather nice looking thinly pounded and fried set of chicken breasts and a kitchen that looked like a war zone. Yuusei couldn't help but to cross his arms and survey the mess without considering the end product. Flour on the ceiling, the floor, starting to crust on the edge of the sink. There was a pile of chicken bones, only partially scraped on the counter and some near the garbage can where they'd been tossed and missed. The spices rack was disorganized and somehow four pans had gone into the single dish.

"Well?" Judai asked, gestured at the plate on the table.

"Kitchen's a mess," Yuusei pointed out.

Judai laughed and sat down. "Yeah, it is. Sometimes things get messy. Good and the bad, but sometimes you've gotten appreciate the end result for what it is."

"It's good no one else is staying here tonight," Yuusei started. If they were he wouldn't have had the time to make something else for them, not that and clean the kitchen before rounds and prep for the morning.

"Just join me," Judai kicked another chair out from under the table. "A good host wouldn't be so rude, right?"

"Thanks, Judai-san." Yuusei said and sat down.

"Don't look so thrilled. I put my heart and soul into this."

"Wild heart and soul."

"See, that doesn't sound so bad when you put it that way, does it?" Sharing table space with Judai was somewhat like sharing kitchen space with him, Yuusei found.

"Still messy."

"Maybe you need to loosen up, have a little fun!"

"I have responsibilities," but, ". . . this isn't bad." He had to admit. That made Judai laugh again, and just keep laughing until he buried his face in his hands, the fork sticking out between his fingers.

"You say that so seriously — like it's a responsibility to compliment my food! That's not natural at all." Judai finished his share of the food and rested his chin on his hands. "It's a little childish."

Yuusei looked down at his half-eaten chicken, then finished it. "Can I help you with anything else tonight?" He asked.

"See you tomorrow evening," Judai replied. And left Yuusei to clean up the kitchen by himself.

* * *

At the beginning of the third week in June, the weather in Satellite always took a turn for the worst part of summer. The temperatures soared and the humidity bounced up. It was the time of year when tourists fled to better beaches — Satellite's own stretch of lake was terrible for sunbathing and the rocky shore was unkind to bare feet. The B&B didn't have any air conditioning, though there were fans in every room and in the evening the lake brought in a cool breeze; the afternoons were the hottest.

And yet, Judai was still there.

"Need a tour?" Yuusei finally asked. The sun had started slanting down for the afternoon, making the two p.m. air heat up.

"Of the town?" Judai grinned. "I got the lay of it, but you might mean something more exciting than the usual spots."

"Other than the main drag and lakeside?" Yuusei nodded. "I'll lock up and grab my phone." The main line of the B&B was his cell anyway. He stuck a sign in the window — the number of times he'd been called while out he could count on one hand — and nodded towards the back. "It'll be faster to go out the back."

"I'm ready for adventure."

"You came to the wrong city for that." Behind the B&B was a back path that took them around to a smaller, less traveled, beach. It wasn't easy to get to, the slope hadn't been made for easy travel and Yuusei had never bothered to cut stairs into it. Once, a friend had asked why not and he'd just shrugged and said he'd never thought about it. That was a long time ago though, back before most people he knew had left.

There still wasn't any sand, but over the years Yuusei had brought down heavy oak benches he'd made out of lake wood — where the trees fell into the water and got hardened and smoothed by the waves. Every late fall he took a walk on the shore, dragged the larger pieces out of the frigid water and back to the workshop. Winter projects kept him warm when there were no customers and the snow kept everyone indoors.

"Ah! Perfect!" Judai exclaimed and skidded down the slope to the water's edge. Yuusei's spot was in a small cove, just calm enough that the lakes waves didn't slosh too much and there was a sharp drop off, giving the surface deceptive calm all the way out. "Do you have any rocks?"

Yuusei raised an eyebrow, gestured to the ground.

"Smooth ones," Judai corrected and held his hand out expectantly. Yuusei had some marbles in his pocket, which he offered. "These aren't the same, but we'll give it a go!"

With a flick of his wrist, Judai sent the marble sailing out into the lake. It hit the surface, bounced once and then sunk.

"Aah, see, no good." Immediately he stooped and started digging around in the small rocks on the shore. "It has to be flat too."

"Why?"

". . . You're telling me you live on a lakeshore and you don't know why I'm looking for smooth rocks?"

"That's why I asked."

"Got it! Here, watch." Judai picked up a flat rock and slung it out across the lake surface. Unlike the marble it hit once, and then bounced and skipped out. Yuusei counted at least ten skips before it kept going, and finally vanished. Then Judai looked back at him, expectant. "It's all in the wrist."

Yuusei's first attempt sucked. His rock didn't even skip once and Judai didn't hold back his laughter at all. His second was better, but not nearly close to Judai's.

It took Yuusei fourteen stones before he got one to go for ten hops. By then Judai had seated himself on one of the oak benches to watch, strangely still and quiet for what Yuusei had grown to know of him.

"You're just going to keep at it, huh?"

"You could leave."

That seemed to delight Judai and he kicked at the ground, snorted a laugh. "I've got nowhere else to be either."

Yuusei thought, he hadn't said he didn't have anywhere else to be, but he wasn't going to turn down the companionship.

* * *

In July, the rain came. It was worse than the year before and the twice-patched roof over rooms 9 and 10 broke through and the water leaked through the floorboards. Yuusei knocked on Judai’s room the day after, carried a ladder and hand-saw.

“What’s the occasion?” Judai opened the door, widely. He was still dressed — or maybe got dressed early — and was as energetic as ever.

“I’m going to fix the roof. You can move down to room 1 or 2, if you want. It’ll be quieter. This might take a few days.”

“I’m sure you’ll be considerate, Yuusei.”

Yuusei shook his head a little, a small retort on his tongue, but he let it go and headed to room 9. After leaving the ladder and saw he brought up nails, hammer, boards and some sealant. Furniture was moved out and tarp laid down. It took the better part of the afternoon to tear open the ceiling and cut out the rotten and soaked wood. Some of it was so gutted it probably should have been done years ago, he was lucky a storm, rain or snow, hadn’t collapsed the roof in before then.

He worked through the night, slept a few hours the next day and then went about to install the new roof. Yuusei was so intent on his work he didn’t notice that Judai had entered the room until he was right underneath the ladder.

“Upgrading it, huh?”

The hammer fell off the ladder’s platform, followed by the wrench and a box of screws that exploded across the tarped floor. Yuusei stared down at the mess, he couldn’t really blame Judai for it, he’d been the one who was surprised and carelessly dropped it.

“Like a sun roof, with a sliding shade.” Yuusei sighed and climbed down off the ladder. “Might as well, since such a large part of the roof had to go.”

“Maybe I’ll move into this room next — don’t say it! You’ll have to charge me more, right? It’ll be expensive.” Judai grinned. Yuusei just bent down to pick the screws up off the floor. That was what he had been going to say, but no need to repeat it. “Anyway, see ya later.” Someday, Yuusei was going to have to ask Judai where he went every day. It didn’t seem like there was enough things to do in Satellite, certainly not for weeks on end. It wasn’t any of his business, but Judai was quickly approaching the record of the longest staying guest.

He worked through the night again and fell asleep on the tarp, arms folded under his head. Yuusei woke, just after midnight, to the sound of the ladder crashing down. He sat bolt upright, squinted into the dark and called out, “Hey.”

“This thing’s not as stable as it looks.” Judai set the ladder back against the hole in the roof. “Come here, this is cool.” And then he climbed up the ladder. Yuusei stayed on the floor for a moment, his brain slowly caught up with events. His guest had just decided to climb the ladder at some bizarre time of night to the roof. Annoyance and a small bit of worry — the roof wasn’t that safe — ended up climbing up the ladder right after Judai.

Judai stood on the roof, face tilted up slightly towards the sky. “Nice night, something about the rain brings in nice air.”

“It took the humidity out of the air.” Yuusei offered, makes sure to stand on a different set of support beams than Judai. “Other parts of the roof aren’t stable.”

“Ever been up here before?”

“Just for repairs.”

“So, not really.” Judai shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. “It’s got a good view. Take a look.” He nodded out in the direction of the lake. Since Satellite was far enough away from a larger city the stars were visible — both in the sky and reflected back in the large lake. The distant lights of Domino looked like a cluster of stars nestled in between the dark hills. Everything was shades of black — blue-black sky, violet and brown-black ground, green-black trees and blue-black water.

Yuusei had lived in Satellite his entire life and never quite seen it like that. It reminded him of why he was still there.

The only other things Yuusei said that night were, _thanks_ and _good night, Judai-san._ Judai had other things to say, most of them weren’t meaningful but they were pleasant.

* * *

An expedition of wildlife photographers came in mid-July. Judai had moved into room 9, after the roof had been repaired to admire the sun roof. For one week, the B&B was half-full. It kept Yuusei busy, and like most expeditions, they used the mud room to the fullest. Every night it was stocked full of boots, equipment, nets and muddied tripods.

Yuusei watched Judai slip in amongst the photographers and scientists and start conversations with them, like they were old friends. They all went out drinking together, ate meals together, and one of the older photographers had taken to calling Judai “son”, after the first day.

“And this was our first go out, in the Amazon, take a look at these pictures!” A tablet with a library of photographs was passed around. Yuusei overheard them from the kitchen as he did dishes.

“Wow, pretty exciting. How long were you there?” Something in Judai’s voice always seemed eager. Yuusei had noticed that himself. Judai was easy to spend time with and to talk to, but he always seemed to leave a mess in his wake, too.

“Three months! On the government dime, but it dried up too fast. We didn’t get what we were there for. . . and that’s why we’re mostly doing local tours now. Native fauna and watershed eco-photography. It’s important work, but lacks. . . well, you know.”

“Adventure! And challenge. Seeking out things like that can be its own reward.”

“That’s exactly it. Clever boy, you should head out with us tomorrow.”

“Huh, really? Show me the ropes, captain!”

Yuusei imagined the gesture Judai might have made — a half-salute. Somehow, Judai always was in motion. He was expressive with his face and with his hands, it was almost exhausting, just being around him. With just half the rooms filled, and Judai, the B&B seemed at full capacity.

Really though, Yuusei thought, even when it was just Judai it felt like every room was filled.

* * *

Honeysuckle bloomed three different times in the year. Once in spring and twice in summer. The last time it bloomed in the year was early August. They had both changed their daily patterns, by the time it was in bloom again.

If there were other guests at the B&B, Yuusei would take care of them first and then he and Judai had a simple brunch together. Usually they ate on the front porch, just coffee and bagels, or banana bread. Sometimes they ate in the workshop, Yuusei with coffee in one hand and a pencil in the other, sketching out a new project. His current one was a new cabinet for the front desk, one with enough shelves and drawers for all of the guest paperwork. On those days, Judai ate and wandered around the shop, poked at all the half-completed projects and left crumbs everywhere.

Judai usually disappeared, again, in the day to do whatever it was he did. Yuusei still hadn’t asked, sure that if it was interesting Judai would share it. Judai shared all sorts of interesting things — he’d traveled by hitchhiking down the interstate, two years ago he’d gone to school for architecture, of all things, and he’d once had a cat. Yuusei wasn’t sure any of his life facts compared nearly as favorably, but he shared too. His father had died when he was young, his best friend was an award winning cyclist — but had moved away, years ago, he was glad Judai had decided to stay the summer.

“Want to go for a longer walk? I’ll show you the route I came in on,” Judai offered, “You might see something you haven’t before.”

“Maybe I’ll show you something,” Yuusei was quick to say, but ducked his head at Judai’s laughed response. He set the sign in the B&B’s window — the usual with his cell number, if anyone needed him. There would probably be another few weeks lull before some hunters passed through Satellite and needed a place to stay.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Judai had, apparently, taken the oddest way into Satellite. It was a small path off the interstate and down by a creek that crossed through an old farm field that had been left to the wild. The large wood fencing was overtaken by brambles and the barbed wire was rusted over. Yuusei couldn’t remember if anyone, in his lifetime, had ever owned the land. A pair of twinned mulberry trees that split the path in half, grown together so fiercely they were almost one tree. The entire path was lined in honeysuckle bushes that crawled across the floor and other trees and wildlife.

“We don’t have these, back in my city,” Judai lightly touched the honeysuckle. “Or, maybe we do, but I never really noticed. It’s everywhere out here.”

“It’s sweet,” Yuusei said. He twisted off a bloom, careful to keep the base intact and offered it. “You can eat it.”

“The whole flower? Doesn’t that get, I don’t know, polleny?” Judai accepted the bloom though. “Or chewy. I ate flowers petals once, by accident, it wasn’t very good at all, Yuusei.”

“Like this.”

There was a secret to eating honeysuckle. The small green cap on the base had to come off in one piece and pulled at just the right speed so the inner stalks of the flower catch the sweetness inside. If it’s done properly tiny beads of sweet liquid cling to the stems and it’s easy to suck off. It was one of the better summer treats in Satellite, just after snow cones and ice cream drumsticks.

Judai got it in one go, easily and triumphantly licked the honeysuckle off his fingertips. “Not bad.”

“We did this a lot as kids.” Yuusei offered. After a few more minutes in companionable silence and several more honeysuckle blossoms, Judai leaned over.

“Getting to know the area is like getting to know you, I wonder what you’d think about where I came from. School wasn’t so bad, but it went places I never thought it would.” When Judai laughed again, his lips were close to Yuusei’s ear and the laugh was soft and hard to hear. “It’s been a great summer, away from it all.”

“Judai-san. . .”

“This place has a good mood, huh?”

“. . . do you mind if,” Yuusei fumbled it. He didn’t finish his words, tilted his head back a little to try and catch Judai’s eyes, to see what expression he wore. Judai’s expression was open and as inviting as ever.

It was probably the worst kiss of Yuusei’s life. He and Judai both tilted at the same moment, bumped noses and then teeth and then Judai started laughing and buried his face in Yuusei’s shoulder. Yuusei was too embarrassed to do much else than mutter, “Sometimes, your best intentions don’t work out.”

“Yuusei,” Judai got out between laughs, “That much is obvious.”

* * *

When the summer came to an end, Yuusei got up one morning to make breakfast for the two travelers other than Judai who were staying at the B&B and found Judai already down in the lobby. His bag slung over one shoulder, same coat as always.

“Glad I timed it just right. I’m headed out.”

Yuusei thought to ask, to where, or when are you coming back, but instead he just said, “You’re welcome back, any time.”

“I had a great summer here, Yuusei. You should try traveling sometime, it might be good to see more of the world. Maybe I’ll see you around!” Judai saluted with two fingers and then just left.

“Goodbye,” Yuusei said. He didn’t have any plans to leave Satellite, he hadn’t in years. He had guests, he still had that cabinet to build and with the autumn and then the winter, it would be a bad time to try and sell the B&B.

But, maybe, next summer.


End file.
